“I’m proud to have you on board, mister.”
The boy gulped, blinked up at him with those cerulean eyes. “An’ I’m proud to be aboard, sir. What a caper!”
“See how they are doing with the pumps, man.”
“Aye, sir.”
They were lucky, Blake thought, looking around him. Damned lucky. He had seen ships capsized during such storms, and men swept overboard swallowed by the angry ocean or killed outright, their back or necks broken. Although the Emerald Temptress had had her yard split and the mainsail was gone, his men were safe. It was all that mattered.
“Lieutenant,” he called Adrian, “check our bearings and report immediately. We will lie under bare poles for the next several hours.”
“Aye, sir.”
Blake knew that a sudden letup in the squall could be followed by disaster, the winds returning with such renewed violence that all sails could be torn from the yards.
“Jonas, take several men and check the upper works for looseness. Matthews, have your men check every seam.”
He issued command after command. There was work to be done fast. The yard was lowered and repaired, the riggings mended, a new sail bent. Without her mainsail the Emerald Temptress was a sitting duck. Blake himself began emptying the water troughs into the giant earthenware jars fastened in the shrouds. As he worked, his mind drifted back to what happened in his cabin before the storm. Regret weighed heavily on him. How was Cearo now? Was he still crying? He emptied a trough and replaced it under the collection mat. He had to know. He started for his cabin.
“Sir--”
“Aye, Mister?” His met Adrian’s and he wondered, has his friend ever treated anyone as badly? He doubted it.
“Sir, we’ve been blown north so far that we may as well head for Malasia,” Adrian said. “The wind is from the south and the current’s gone crazy. With no mainsail, we can only follow it.”
Blake considered the other alternatives and found no good reason not to head for his island home off the Caribbean coast. In fact, there was every reason for doing so. When he encountered his enemy on the armed Elysian, he wanted the Emerald Temptress to be in top condition. He gave Adrian a slap on the back.
“Malasia it is, man.”
“Shall I set us a double reef course?”
“Aye, after an hour or so. I want to make sure the strong wind does not return.”
It was a wonderful
idea, going home, he thought. Cearo would be much better off on Malasia.
His thoughts returned to the sea nymph in his cabin. He had to know how
he was...
· · · · · · · ·
Dae sat on his bunk, knees pulled up to his tensed body and his head pressed to them. His eyes were closed. The ship still pitching wildly, but at least he no longer heard the wind screaming or the sleet hitting the port side. He could not erase from his mind the terrible sight he had seen such a short time ago, those white-faced men hanging in the shrouds. He realized now that they had been replacing the shredded sail. What strength and courage it had taken to climb the riggings and cling there at the height of the storm. Without them, criminals or not, he suspected the Emerald Temptress might now be lying at the bottom of the Atlantic.
He remembered Jade clinging to the highest point where the wind was whipping its hardest. When lightning has slashed nearby, he had seen his dark handsome face etched in fiery blue. Jade had looked so unafraid, his amber eyes filled with such unholy excitement, that even now he shivered at the memory. What sort of man thrive on such danger?
He already knew. Jade was a man who feared no one, a man who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. And he wanted him....
Dae opened his eyes and gazed beyond the port. Seeing that the sky was its sapphire hue again, he rose and looked out at the sleet, frothing waves. Was the worst over? He yearned to go on deck to see what was happening, but he was sure to encounter Jade there. If only he never had to see him again!
He sighed. It was wistful thinking. Jade ruled this ship with an iron hand, and he could well imagine his plans for him from now on. He would be chained to the bed during the days as well as the nights so as to be readily available for him. The bastard. It stung him that no other women, not even his paramours, had ever excited him as Jade had. Of course they had not, he told himself. And how shameful that he had allowed himself to melt, to--to positively wallow in sensations against which he would have fought.
Dae angrily thrust away the memory, only to have it return more vividly than ever, his teasing and kissing and stroking and licking him. He jumped to his feet and paced, his hands clasped behind him. Oh, he was so confused. He should have hated it, all of it, so why had he not? Was he growing wanton?
Another thought jolted him so that he had sit down. Had Jade fallen into that ebon, ranging sea and drowned? Would he ever see him again? Never to see his face or feel his kisses or his arms around him again? The possibility numbed him. He buried his face in his hands. And if, God forbid, that were so, it meant that he was at the mercy of the crew...
Dae started at the soft knock on the door. When it opened to reveal Jade, his relief was so great that his knees began to shake. He was safe! Of, thank God, he was safe. He saw that Jade was drenched and utterly weary. Rivulets of water streamed down his face from his golden hair, and his clothing was plastered to his strong frame. Then, seeing the red gashes on his cheek, and remembering how he came there, Dae grew angry all over again.
“Are you alright?” His voice was low.
Dae gave a bitter laugh. “It is a trifle late to ask, don’t you think? And now I suppose you have come to chain me to the bed again.”
A muscled clenched his jaw. “Hardly. Not until bedtime.” He went to his trunk, yanked out several articles of clothing, and tossed them over his shoulder. “You may not realize what a storm we just come through.”
“I have been to sea before and I am not stupid.”
“Don’t you know you could have been killed out there? Swept overboard?”
“How kind of you to be concerned.” He moved to the port and gazed out stonily, his arms folded across his chest, head held high.
Every time Blake looked at him, he wanted him. He wanted to entice and beguile and seduce him again, to have him soft and squirming in his arms. He knew his slender sensuous body would yield to him long before his will surrendered. But was he hardened enough to take advantage of it and not concern himself with his feelings? For three years now, vengeance had been all that mattered to him. Night and day, he had lived and breathed and slept vengeance, and now, to have him in his power, to have the ultimate weapon with which to shame and humiliate and enrage his enemy...But how far to go? It was a thing he might weigh and consider very carefully. He closed the trunk and moved to the door.
“Dinner will be late,” he said. He did not look at him or wait for any sassy answer. He left.
Dae was not hungry, but he had to get out of the cabin. And he wanted desperately a breath of fresh air. When he grew brave enough to steal down the companion way to the mess. Strangely, the men hardly paid him any heed. They were wolfing down their food and discussing the storm and the repairs that were underway. Sitting himself far away from the men although near enough to hear bits and pieces of what was happening. Toying with the food that had been brought to him. He sighed, leaving the food where it lied, untouched and walked towards the cabin.
Back in his cabin, Dae threw himself onto the bunk. He wanted to cry and scream and rage and throw his books and his chessmen. Yes, and perhaps be bound and gagged for his trouble. No, it would do. He would have to behave himself and bide him time. But somehow, someway, someday he would pay Jade back for all the humiliation he was heaping upon him.
His fear during the storm had drained his body, yet his mind was still alert and filled with angry thoughts. He would not be able to sleep. He decided to soothe himself with Shakespeare. Taking the small book of sonnets from the bookcase, Dae crawled onto the bed fully clothed in black breeches and the black vest that Jade had stripped from him that morning. From now on, he vowed hotly, he would go to bed dressed in the clothing he wore during the day. He was not going to make things easy for him!
He ran his fingers lightly over the book’s fine leather binding, thinking once more how strange it was that the captain of the ghost ship would have so many books. He opened the volume and gazed at the inscription penned in a form, boyish hand. From Patrick with admiration, it said.
Patrick... Dae’s curiosity was forgotten as the book fell open to the very page he wanted to read. How remarkable. Did it mean that Jade, too, loved this sonnet, perhaps even drawing strength from it as he himself did? The page was badly soiled and dog-eared, and he stared at the suspicious-looking smears on it. He sniffed in distaste. Doubtless they were bloodstains, considering the wild and reckless life he lived. And doubtless they were well-deserved. With that, he forgot them and began to eagerly read: When in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes...
· · · · · · · ·
Dae finished his reading and lain sleepless for what seemed like hours when the door opened and Jade came in. In the moon glow filtering through the port, Dae watched him come to him. His heart pounded so hard that he thought that he might faint, but he kept his breathing deep and regular, pretending sleep.
“Cearo?” When he made no answer, he sat down on the bunk beside him. “I know you are not asleep,” he said, his voice soft and so deep that it set up a vibration inside of him.
“Go away.”
“Not until I put this on you...”
Feeling the hated bracelet go around his wrist, Dae cried, “Again? You mean to tell me what I am to be chained every night?”
“Every night.” The tiny key clicked in the lock.
“What kind of a man are you to be afraid?”
“A man who wants to wake up in one piece in the morning.”
“If I were on La Florencia, you would have no problem,” he said. “Or if I were in a another cabin...” The chain clanked as he attached it to his bunk.
“That is not possible,” he said gruffly. “I’m sorry.”
He went to the port and breathed in the night air into his lungs. Being near him for even that short a time had intoxicated him. His nostrils were filled with his scent and the fragrance of his warm breath, and his mind reeled with the remembered taste of his flesh and mouth, the feel of him in his hands.
“You are heartless. Merciless...”
“Yes.”
Was he going to make love to him tonight or not? he brooded, then caught himself abruptly. Bastard. Had he forgotten so soon what he had done to him? His thoughts were a jumble of contrasting images: Cearo weeping, scratching him, and then warm and yielding, arching against him, whimpering, giving him his hungry kisses, his yearning body, and then more weeping.
Hell. For certain, he meant to enjoy unprecedented pleasure in the coming weeks, followed by more unprecedented pleasure when Jafear learned of what he’d done. The devil would be wild with fury. But uneasiness nagged Blake, a vague feeling he might destroy this man as easily as he seduced him. He shook his head. He was growing addled on the subject, making him out to be some impossibly fragile flower when it was clear he had enjoyed himself, at least part of the time. He drew another breath and began stripping off his clothing.
In the pale light streaming though the port, Dae gazed resentfully at Jade’s tall, naked body, the moonlight turning it into a harshly beautiful study in shadow and silver. He resisted the memory of their lovemaking until finally it overwhelmed him: the salty male taste of him, his long hard body pressing him into the bed, squeezing the breath out of him and taking his strength, his will, his very being for his own. Oh, he loathed him. He loathed his strength and his power. No one should have such power over another human being as he had over him.
“You are unfeeling and ruthless and contemptible,” he cried.
“All of that,” Blake agreed quietly, getting into his own bunk.
Was there nothing that he could do or say to hurt him? Dae wondered, seething. How he yearned to pull him down and trample him, crush his pride and his arrogance.
Blake lay staring at the silver-drenched night beyond the port, but all of his senses were focused on the woman in the other bed. He was taut, heart roaring, blood racing, manhood erect. He wanted to stretch out beside him and pull him close. he wanted to feel every inch of his soft, smooth body pressed hard against him; wanted to kiss everywhere, on his long sweeping lashes, the tip of his adorable nose, his saucy pale nipples, his sculpted abdomen, even the pink soles of his feet. He wanted to be inside of him.
Damn it, why should he not have him? He was booty. Any other sea wolf would have had him many times over and by now been sharing him with his men. Why should he be softhearted just because he was not the tart he had expected? He was Jafear’s son, wasn’t he?
He sighed and turned over. Somehow, God alone knew how, Jafear had gotten himself a son whom any man would be proud of. And Blake wanted him for himself, body and soul.
“Cearo..”
“I refuse to speak to you as long as this chain is on me.”
His breathing was uneven and his thoughts lustful. He cursed his hunger and forced himself to dwell on his weakness, his helplessness. He was completely at his mercy.
“Cearo, I want to make love.”
Dae pulled the blanket over his head and curled up into a ball. Was it all the man ever thought of? Suddenly he knew how to hurt him. Men like Jade were such vain creatures. He lowered his blanket.
“You realize,” he said, forcing his voice to icy loathing, “that I will never let you touch me or my own free will. You touch nauseates me. You make me feel soiled.”
Jade said nothing. The only sounds he heard were the ever-present creaking and groaning of the ship, the wash of waves against her plunging bow, and the sigh of the wind in the sail. Frantic to goad him, Dae raised his voice.
“I would willingly sleep with anyone but you. Anyone. Not only do you make me feel soiled, but you are completely inadequate.”
Inadequate? Blake chuckled softly. “Is that so?”
“It-it certainly is,” he said.
When he rose from his bunk and closed the ports, Dae’s heart sank. He had made a dreadful mistake thinking that he would react as any normal man might to such an insult. He was too confident, too assure to sink into a deep dolor over something he knew was not true. The chain clanked as he hurriedly sat up, his back against the wall.
“Stay away from me!”
“It seems I must try harder, my cosset.”
“If you so much as t-touch me,” Dae said between clenched teeth, “I will strangle you with this chain. I swear it!”
“I am going to make love to you, Cearo.”
“It takes two to make love,” he cried.
“I think this time you will find me more than--adequate.” He got into his bunk, caught him around the waist, and pulled Dae close. “Little tease...”
“I swear you will regret this--” He struggled, pushing against his chest. “ I will pay you back, pirate dog!”
“Shhh.” His lips sought Dae’s.
“I swear it,” Dae cried as he took his mouth in a deep kiss.
Dae twisted his face from Jade’s and tried to pull free, but he was too powerful. With one arm, Jade held him easily against him, and though he tried to prevent it, he unbuttoned Dae’s breeches, all the while kissing his lips, his face, his